


Dead Man Walking

by defyaugury



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood, Body Horror, Death, Delinquent Pines Twins, Dipper Pines Has Panic Attacks, Dipper Pines has ADHD, F/F, F/M, Gore, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Mabel Pines has ADHD, Mabel Pines has Panic Attacks, Orphan AU, Panic Attacks, Witchcraft, how to get away with murder au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6095726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defyaugury/pseuds/defyaugury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Pines Twins, Classified as: Troubled Kids"</p><p>At least that's what the school councilor's report had said, highlighted and circled in red, when Dipper and Mabel had broken into the school's files late one night. Apparently, personality problems were common in children who had lost their parents. At the moment though, behavioral issues and orphan backstories don't seem to be the twins' biggest problem. Oh no, their BIGGEST problem was the dead body currently bleeding out in the back of their school's prop room.</p><p>[Previously known as Thus With a Kiss, I Die]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Course it's a Corpse

Blood seeped across the concrete floor, crawling towards Dipper with a menacing slowness.

His heart pounded horrendously loud in his ears, a numbness having taken hold of his entire body. He starred, eyes painfully wide as he was unable to believe what he was looking at.

"Holy shit," he muttered, taking a step back, the ruby red puddle inching towards his toes. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. _What the fuck_?" He took another step back, his heel catching on the threshold of the door, and fell back, landing on his rear. He scrambled backwards, his feet kicking as panic rose in his throat and terror paralyzed his chest.

He was vaguely aware of Bill and Pacifica standing over him, though that really wasn't his main issue at the moment.

No, his biggest problem at the moment was the fact that there was a dead freaking body in the prop room. A dead body. Tad Strange's dead body. The kid he'd had class with every year since eighth grade, and shared his notes with in psych class, and had given him Tyler Michaels's number so Dipper could ask him out junior year, and was only one school year away from graduating at the top of their class—the kid he'd _seen_ earlier that morning, was dead. Tad was dead. Tad was dead. Tad was dead. Tad was dead and his body was right in front of him, his blood spilling across the floor.

Dipper started hyperventilating.

"Hey, woah," Bill said, taking a cautious step forward out of the prop room, his soothing tone ruined by the blood speckling his face. "Calm down, kid. It's just a body, it's not gonna hurt you."

"Are you insane?" Pacifica said from further in the room. She stood behind Tad's body, arms wrapped around herself like she could hold herself together with just her hands. Dipper could see tear tracks running down her face and her voice sounded raw. "He's freaking out. And I can't really blame him. Oh God, he's probably going to call the police and then we're gonna go jail and—"

"He's not going to call the police," Bill snapped, turning over his shoulder. "Not unless he wants me to break the deal we have," Bill said turning back to Dipper, who was having some real trouble focusing on anything other than the dead freaking body in the backstage of his high school's theater.

"Dipper?"

Dipper spun around at the sound of a soft voice saying his name. He saw Mabel through the large window of the light and sound booth, all the way across the stage and rows of seats, at the top of the auditorium. She was leaning out the open window so far she looked like she was going to fall, her sweater on backwards and inside out. She squinted at Dipper and leaned to the side, her eyes drifting to the scene in front of him, of the blood flooding the prop room and Tad's body in the middle of it. Her eyes widened and Dipper swore that even from this distance, he could see her stop breathing.

At the sight of his sister, Dipper finally managed to snap out of his terrified stupor. The lump vanished from his throat, the panic giving way to clarity. He was already scrambling to his feet, screaming at his sister, using every fiber in his body to tell her one thing.

"Mabel, _run!_ "

**_—Thirty-two Hours Earlier—_ **

The bus hit a pothole, jarring Dipper Pines awake. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the school bus windows, warming the cold pane Dipper had his forehead pressed to. He sighed and straightened up, trying to repress the urge to yawn as he rubbed at his forehead. Trees flicked by the window, blurring into a water color picture of autumn reds and golds. The sun had already started to rise, its light turning the sky a musty red.

In the seat next to him, Mabel sat slouched, her head thrown back over the seat back and her mouth stretched wide, allowing the occasional snore to escape. Red light filtered in to land on his sister's face. Dipper's thoughts flitted to a nautical book on his great uncle's bookcase. There was a sailors' saying about red mornings, but he couldn't quite remember what it was.

"Mabel," Dipper muttered, shaking her shoulder. "Hey, Mabel."

She jerked awake with a snort. "Wazzat?"

"We're almost to school," Dipper said. "You need to wake up." He pulled off his cap and shoved it into his backpack, cramming it between at least five or so tattered and worn books.

Mabel gave a tired mumble and wiped a bit of drool from the side of her mouth before saddling her own backpack onto her lap. Dipper could hear the tell tale sound of spray cans clattering together as she shifted. He glanced at her. He knew Mabel never left the house without her "art supplies," but still, he wished she'd stop bringing them to school.

"Oh goody," she griped, pulling her bag to her chest. "Another day at our most favorite place."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than the bus took its last turn.

Gravity Falls Senior High School loomed over them in the hazy morning light at the very top of the hill, shrouded in early morning Oregon mist, like a ghost, looking as warm and inviting as ever.

"You know," Dipper said. "It could be worse."

"I have a test in math today," Mabel sighed. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"We could be watching one of your plays."

Mabel looked at him, the two catching each other's eye before bursting into laughter. "You're an asshole," she said, shoving him into the window. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"You have," Dipper grinned and flicked her in the forehead. "Consistently."

"Well someone has to keep your giant head in check," Mabel slapped him away before pressing herself against his side.

He looked to find her staring past him, out the window and up at the government institution that looked more like a prison than a school. In the dim morning light, the countless earrings that ridged her ear in silver glittered feebly and the holographic stickers that she still wore on her cheeks despite the both of them being seventeen looked like they'd lost their shine.

He remembered how people always said they looked so similar, like they were two sides of the same fraternal twin coin, but he could never see it.

Mabel sighed. "Remember when we used to be excited about going to high school?"

Dipper leaned back in his seat and sighed, doing his best to avoid looking at the school. Kids were already walking to class from cars and busses, their backpacks making them look crippled and hunchbacked. The front doors opened wide, the mouth of the school ready to swallow them whole.

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper asked.

She didn't look at him, continuing to watch out the window as they pulled into the bus loop beside the school. "Yeah?"

Dipper grit his teeth against the horrible twisting feeling in his gut. He thought about the sailors' saying he couldn't quite remember and how the sky looked like a slit artery, pulsing red everywhere. He thought about his headache, and about their mom and how she used to say she always got headaches before she got bad news, like a warning. His fingers twitched. It was probably because he didn't take his meds this morning, he told himself. That's why he felt like this. But still, he wanted to ask if Mabel could feel it, too, like a throbbing in her head telling her something big was coming.

"Hey," Mabel said, voice soft, still looking out the window. "The sky looks like blood today, doesn't it? Like vampire lips, or a rose that's been left too long in the sun. " 

* * *

Dipper had at least a thought a day about wishing he could wear his cap in school, just so he could pull the bill low over his eyes and pull the hood of his hoodie up and disappear into the crowds of the school halls. More than anything, Dipper hated attention, and more than anything, he hated people ogling him. Unfortunately, being gifted with a wondrous diagnosis of ADHD and a naturally smart mouth, he'd managed to gain the school-wide reputation of the kid that lost his temper easily and often found himself in the principal's office for talking back to teachers.

Usually, his medication helped to keep his outbursts in check. That is, when he remembered to take it, unlike this morning.

Dipper had gone over twenty-eight hours without his medication, and he was already feeling the side-effects. It was like electricity was buzzing in his fingertips, urging to be let loose. He couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds and couldn't focus on anything that was put on the board, and it was making him frustrated. He couldn't think, couldn't concentrate, and by the last period, all he wanted to do was go home.

The good news was he nearly made it through the day without much incident. It was the _"nearly"_ that was the bad news.

The bell rang for the last period and Dipper settled in his seat at the back of the class, doing his best not to fidget as students streamed into the room. Boys roughhoused, pushing each other through the door. Girls clustered together, giggling and chatting to one another.

"Hey, how's it going, Pine Tree?"

Dipper glanced to his side to watch as Bill Cipher fell into his seat to the left of Dipper, kicking his feet up on the desk of a neighboring student. The owner of the desk sneered and pushed him away. Bill laughed, his boots falling to the floor with a heavy thud.

"I told you not to call me that," Dipper said, eyeing Bill warily.

"And I told you, you're wasting your breath," Bill grinned, flashing him a wink.

Dipper glowered. Bill chuckled, his hand flitting up to finger the fox bone that dangled from a piece of leather around his neck, tiny and fragile. Bill told everyone the bone was part of the witch coven he was in. Usually, Dipper thought something like that would be a joke, but it was always hard to tell with Bill.

A peal of high-pitched laughter caught his attention and Dipper turned to catch a glimpse of the desks to the right of them, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Pacifica Northwest sat directly to the right of him, with her platinum blonde hair slick and shining down her back and a pair of diamond earrings glinting in her ears that were probably worth more than Dipper and Mabel's great uncle's car. Tad Strange sat directly behind her, his shoulders broad with a rugby letterman jacket and face bright with an easy and warm smile.

Paz and Tad, otherwise known as the school's power couple. With Pacifica's wealthy parents owning most of the town's real estate and Tad being the school's prized sweetheart, they practically owned half the school.

Tad massaged at Pacifica's shoulders, strong fingers digging into her amethyst cardigan and keeping her from moving too far. Pacifica squealed with laughter, her voice too high-pitched, her smile stretched so wide it looked like a grimace.

Dipper had to look away before he gagged.

"Well isn't that cute," Bill muttered, rolling his eyes.

Dipper jolted when something solid collided with his desk. He looked up to find a six foot, four giant towering over him. Gideon Gleeful grinned at Dipper, canines glinting. He circled around, kicking Dipper's desk again on his way to his own seat right behind Dipper.

Dipper had known Gideon since his first summer in Gravity Falls, with Gideon barely being tall enough to reach the bill of Dipper's hat. Over the years, however, Gideon had grown. Well, that was more so an understatement. The little munchkin shot up over the years like fucking bamboo. He gained in height without loosing any of his girth, standing a full half foot taller than Dipper and nearly twice as wide. By all accounts and purposes, he was prime material for the school football team, but instead he chose to harass other students, intimidating them with his wolfish grin and impressive size.

Gideon still blamed Dipper as the reason Mabel refused to go out with him, despite the fact that the entire school already knew Mabel was more one for chasing skirts than jock straps. Which, of course, made having class with him just peachy.

The desk chair creaked under Gideon's weight as he leaned forward in his chair a bit closer to Dipper than was necessary. Dipper tried to focus on the teacher, but was finding it difficult with Gideon's labored little pig-like breathing in his ear. The twisting gut feeling Dipper had earlier that morning came raging back. Like something bad was bound to happen, only he didn't know what.

"Well, well, well," Gideon snickered. "If it isn't my old pall Dipper Pines."

"Leave me alone, Gideon," Dipper muttered back. "I'm not in the mood."

"Why," Gideon said, sounding offended. "All I wanted was to say hi to one of my old childhood buddies."

Dipper gritted his teeth. He could _feel_ the absence of his medication, the frustration and irritation he'd gathered throughout the day already throbbing in his temples. He knew if he opened his mouth, he'd regret it.

"So tell me, how's my Mabel been lately?" Gideon asked, acting on all pretenses of just being friendly. "Haven't seen her around any of her usual spots."

Dipper's grip tightened around his pencil. He glanced up to find Bill ignoring the lesson and staring at the two of them with mild interest, like he was waiting to see what would happen. Dipper let his eyes fall back to his paper.

"You know, it's like she's avoiding me," Gideon continued. "She won't answer any of my texts. Been sending her pictures and everything."

"Fuck off, Gideon," Dipper ground out. He was vaguely aware of the fact that Tad and Pacifica were both watching him now as well, though it was hard to tell what they were thinking.

"Been tryin' to call her, too," Gideon said, oblivious. "But she hasn't been answering any of my calls even though I _know_ she gets them."

Dipper gritted his teeth, unable to avoid it any longer. "So what?" he bit out the words. "Are you stalking her now?"

"Why I never!" Gideon said in mock surprise. "Just making sure she's alright. I now how difficult it must be to grow up in such a household."

Tad seemed to have at least caught on to what was happening. He leaned forward across their desks. "Hey, man," he said to Gideon. "Knock it off, alright?"

Pacifica rolled her eyes. "Men," she muttered, "Why do you always have to be bickering?"

But it was too late. Dipper spun in his seat, finally, to face Gideon full in the face. "And just what," Dipper ground out his words as if each syllable was a threat, "is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh now, Dipper," he said in that patronizing tone of his. "An alternative family life is nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, Keaden Donivan has two dads and he turned out just fine."

"Gideon," Tad warned. "Back off."

"No, leave them at it," Bill said, leaning forward in his seat, grinning. "I want to see what happens."

Dipper was gripping his pencil so tight it hurt, fingernails curling around to bite into his skin. Every part of him felt like it was on fire. He couldn't sit still, he needed to move, to hit something. "We don't have two dads," he ground out through clenched teeth. "We have two uncles."

"Yes," Gideon sneered. "And from what I hear, they're quite the freaks. One even has twelve fingers, like some kind of mutant."

Dipper's pencil broke.

"Gideon!" Tad hissed.

"You know, sometimes I wonder how your parents could let you live with people like that," Gideon continued.

"Shut up," was all Dipper could say. "Just shut the fuck up." It felt like his throat had closed up, like he couldn't breath.

"But then I remember," Gideon said. "Your parents are dead, aren't they?"

Before he knew what happened, Dipper was out of his seat in less than a heart beat, his fist sinking into Gideon's chubby little pig-like face. He felt Gideon's nose shatter under his knuckles. Pacifica shrieked. He could hear Tad yelling at them as Bill cackled.

Dipper dragged all two-hundred-seventy pounds of Gideon out of his chair with little resistance, thanks to that first punch and continued to hit him. He felt skin splitting and his knuckles cracking, but Dipper kept pulling his fist back again and again, unaware of anything but the white hot rage pulsing behind his eyes.

The classroom filled with screaming and Dipper could only faintly register the teacher yelling at him to stop, but he couldn't. He was a machine, his arm a piston, and he just kept driving it down over and over into Gideon's smug little fat face.

A pair of hands slipped under his arms, wrapping around his chest to haul him back, his feet dragging across the ground. He yelled and fought to get back at Gideon, even as Tad's grip on him tightened to the point of being painful. Tad dragged him away, kicking and screaming, leaving Gideon behind on the floor, bleeding but still breathing.

* * *

 Being sent to the principal's office wasn't exactly something new. Dipper had all but memorized the wallpaper by now, and could trace the pattern in the carpet by heart. He found Mabel already lounging in one of the falsely plush chairs the principal had in her office, backpack full of spray cans at her feet and the rips in her jeans flashing smooth skin. That wasn't exacty something new, either.

"More 'free public art'?" he sighed as he leaned into his own chair next to her.

"Unicorn. Girl's lockers in the gym," she said. Her eyes landed on his bruised knuckles as they leaked blood onto the carpet. "You get into another fight?"

"Gideon," he said. "English. Why didn't you tell me he was stalking you again?"

Mabel shrugged. "Because I'm a big girl and can handle him. Besides, I knew if I told you—"

"I'd want to bash his teeth in," Dipper sighed.

"Gotta keep my little bro out of trouble," she grinned and nudged him in the shoulder.

"I'm five inches taller than you, you know."

" _And_ two minutes younger."

They were both cut off when the door to the office flew open. Principal Butterfly stormed in in a flurry of clicking heels and raging fury, her eyes landing on them like a bird of prey.

* * *

 "This is the fourth time this month—the fourth! You two are grounded, do you understand?" Ford said, gripping the steering wheel and barely keeping his eyes on the road as he kept glancing at the twins in the review mirror. "For at least a month! No phones, no leaving the house, no friends. Do either of you two realize the gravity of the situation? Graffiti _and_ fighting? You could've been expelled! We're lucky it was only detention."

Dipper and Mabel sat in the back seat of their great uncle's station wagon, neither having the courage to take shotgun after having both been picked up from the principal's office. Mabel sat cross-legged, paint-stained fingers grasping her bag to her chest. Dipper leaned against his diver's side door, his hat pulled low as he gazed out the window, watching trees and buildings as it all drifted by. Ford was always the worst when he picked them up. He had a way to guilt trip them into oblivion, to make them feel like everything they did was a mistake.

"I'm at the end of my rope here, kids. I've done everything I could! I don't know what else is there, you both seem hellbent on ruining your own lives."

The station wagon pulled up to the house and Ford turned off the car with a sigh. He sounded like a tire being deflated, like all the fight was leaving him in that single sigh. The driver's seat creaked as he turned around to look at the both of them.

"Kids," he said, his tone resigned. "I'm just trying to help you. I don't want to see either of you throw away your entire futures when you still have so much ahead of you. I mean, wouldn't you like to think your parents would've been proud of you?"

"Well," Mabel said, kicking open the car door. Dipper could hear the brink of tears in her voice and knew she felt just as bad as he did. "I guess we'll never know, will we?" She crawled out and stalked towards the woods, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Mabel, wait!" Ford said, fumbling to get out of the driver's seat. "We need to talk about this!"

"Well maybe if you actually wanted to talk instead of just yelling at us, we would!" Mabel shouted back before slipping between the trees.

The back driver's side door opened and Dipper slid out of the car. Ford turned to him, a rare helpless look on his face.

"Dipper, kiddo, we—"

Dipper ignored him, the brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes as he shouldered past his great uncle without a word and trudged up the back porch steps to the house. The back door slammed open, catching Stan by surprise. He stood from his seat at the kitchen table.

"Short Shit?" Stan asked. "What are you doing home? What's—"

Dipper didn't get to hear the rest of the sentence as Ford came blundering into the house.

"Dipper, wait," Ford called after him. "Can we just talk?"

"What the hell is going on here?" Stan asked, grabbing Ford by the arm.

Dipper ignored the both of them, instead storming up the stairs and towards his and Mabel's room. The sounds of shouting were already reaching by the time Dipper slammed the attic door behind him, dropped his backpack to the floor as he fell back against the door. He gasped for air, doing his best to keep the stinging feeling from his eyes. He raked his fingers through his hair, pushing his hat off in the process.

Shouting continued to echo up the stairs and Dipper distinctly heard his name more than once. He spun and slammed his palm against the door. Maybe if he hit it hard enough, the yelling would stop, the guilt would stop, and the endless gnawing emptiness in his gut could finally dissipate. Hell, if he hit it hard enough, maybe he could even bring his parents back and he and Mabel wouldn't have to live in this stupid town another day. He hit the door again. And again. And again. He hit it until his palm was red and his hand was numb.

Dipper leaned his forehead against the door and screwed his eyes shut, every shuddering breath a war inside his aching chest as the yelling downstairs continued.

* * *

 The sun was inching towards the horizon by the time Dipper slid open his and Mabel's bedroom window and crept onto the roof outside. With careful, familiar movements, Dipper climbed down from the roof, avoiding that one squeaky spot and grabbing that one, sturdy vine and placing his sneaker into that one foothold that was just big enough to put his weight on. Once he was on the ground, Dipper headed for the woods.

The sound of spray cans was easy to follow through the woods, the chittering sound of paint spewed from a nozzle ricocheting between the trunks, diluted by the crunching of leaves under his shoes.

Dipper rounded a tree to find Mabel sitting on the ground, painting a tree trunk in a cloud of red. She looked more of a mess than normal. Her make-up had run, painting her cheeks black. Her hair was a wreck, tangled and knotted with countless braids woven through it, piled in a ragged bun on top of her head. Bronze bangs the same color as Dipper’s fell in her eyes. 

Right next to her, a large potbellied pig rooted through the undergrowth, snorting. Though Waddles was reaching his later years for a pig, Dipper was still happy the little oinker was around. He could always cheer Mabel up whenever Dipper couldn't.

Dipper stood behind Mabel and looked at the tree, his hands deep in his hoodie pockets. She'd painted a heart with their parents' initials in the middle, marring the bark red.

"What happened to the whole eco-defender stuff?" Dipper asked.

"The tree's already dying," she said, leaning back and throwing her can at her bag. "A little bit of paint can't do much more harm," she sighed.

They didn't say anything for a moment, the two Pines twins looking at the heart on the tree and the four letters trapped inside. The only sounds were the twittering of fall birds, the scampering of a few groundhogs.

"Do you remember the story of their first date?" Mabel asked, her voice small.

Dipper snorted. "Yeah. They went on a picnic and carved their initials into a tree. The most cliche story ever."

"Except for the fact that Dad tried to get Mom an apple from one of the higher branches and fell and broke his arm. Mom had to drive him to the emergency room."

A small laugh escaped Dipper. "I forgot that part."

Mabel laughed. "How could you forget  _that_?"

Dipper pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, covering the pale underside of his wrists. He shrugged. "I don't know. I've forgotten a lot of things about them. It's hard to remember if they're not around."

The woods were suddenly very quiet and Dipper knew without looking that Mabel's smile had disappeared. She leaned back against his legs, looking up at her work of tree-art.

"What do you think would be different if they were still here?" she asked.

"Well," Dipper said after a moment of thought. "For one, we wouldn't have to eat Ford's cooking."

Mabel laughed and Dipper smiled.

"And," he added. "We would've never met that drug cartel that came to visit Stan that one time."

"Oh my gosh, that was so scary!" Mabel said with a gasp. "Hey, we wouldn't be going to school here and you wouldn't have been rejected by Melanie Jackson last year."

"Yeah, only to find out that the reason that she said 'no' was because she had a thing for _you_ ," Dipper said.

Mabel dissolved into giggles. "Oh yeah," she said. "I forgot. That did turn out well for me, though."

Dipper rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile that lit his face. Mabel's shoulders were shaking and Dipper could feel her laughter through her back against his legs.

"And," she added, "we would have never gotten caught for stealing those golf carts from the mini-putt place sophomore year."

Dipper was laughing hard now, his shoulders shaking. A snort escaped him, forcing Mabel to giggled even harder. Colored leaves fell around them, like large snowflakes, the breezes carrying their laughter through the trees.

"Alright," Dipper finally said, breaking their bubble. "Time to get going, we're still grounded, you know."

"Ugh," Mabel groaned as she took his offered hand to help her up. "Don't remind me. Mrs. Spitz is going to kill me when she finds out how many musical rehearsals I'll be missing."

"Ah, don't worry," Dipper said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sure it'll all turn out all right."

Mabel snorted. "Sure it will, Mr. Big Head."

"I believe the correct term is alpha twin. "

"You mean the correct term is smart ass," Mabel said.

"I mean the correct term is shut up, we're having a moment here."

Mabel laughed and Dipper grinned. They began walking home, Dipper's arm around his sister as Waddles snorted along behind them.

* * *

 The sound of Dipper's sneakers squeaking on tile filled the empty hall. He wandered down the empty halls of the school, everyone having cleaned out by now. Detention had run late, being locked in a classroom with a handful of other delinquents, nothing to do but stare at the wall. The administration had long since learned that giving the twins shared detentions caused more problems than fixed them. So Mabel had spent the last three hours in the girl's locker room, scrubbing down the paint splattered wall that had landed her in detention to begin with.

Once Dipper had been released, he'd gone to look for her, only to find the locker room empty. He sighed before making his way towards the school auditorium, thinking that’d be his best bet to find her.

He was about to open the door, when it flew open, nearly hitting him in the process. The principal's daughter, Star Butterfly, stumbled through the door, her face flushed and hair disheveled.

"Oh!" she gasped, just noticing Dipper only after she'd nearly collided with him. "Hi, Dipper! How are you? Good to hear, gotta go, see you later!"

Dipper barely had time to realize what had happened before Star vanished, bolting down the hall. He stared after her, her footsteps echoing loudly on the hard tile. He turned back and pushing through the door and into the auditorium.

"Mabel?" he called, glancing around the empty auditorium. It looked like drama practice had ended a while ago. The stage was clear and there was no one to be seen. He glanced up and down the rows of seats, only to find them all empty, Mabel's stuff nowhere in sight. He glanced at the door, remembering Star and how flustered she'd looked. Yup, Mabel definitely had to be in here.

It was then that he heard a muffled noise coming from somewhere backstage. "Mabel?" he asked, climbing the steps up onto the stage. He realized the noise sounded more like muffled voices than anything else. He followed it backstage into one of the wings before he found himself outside the closed door to the prop room, which was more of a large closet/woodshop area than anything else.

"Mabel?" he asked again, trying the door handle, only to find it locked. He was about to knock, when he paused.

The voices coming from the other side of the door didn't sound like Mabel. In fact, it was only then that Dipper realized that there was more than one voice. He couldn't tell how many there were but it sounded like they were arguing. There was at least one girl's voice, high-pitched and shrill.

Dipper flinched when he heard the distinct sound of a slap, open palm on flat skin. The arguing suddenly turned to shouting, accompanied by a large bang as something was knocked over.

"Hey?" Dipper said, knocking on the door. "Who's in there?"

No one seemed to hear him. The shouting grew louder, and there was a scuffling sound, like someone was fighting. The girl's voice came again, and Dipper suddenly realized it was Pacifica. Something was going on here, and whatever it was, Dipper doubted it could be anything but bad. The shouting grew more intense, voices drowning out one another and a nervous feeling trickled down into Dipper's stomach. A loud clang rang out and someone hissed in pain. Whatever was happening was turning violent. Pacifica sobbed.

"Hey!" Dipper called, now jiggling at the handle. "What's going on in there! Pacifica! Are you okay?" Again, no one seemed to hear him. Dipper's heart leapt into his throat when he heard a scream. The arguing was deafening loud now, words muffled through the door. Dipper began jiggling at the door frantically, the way Mabel had told him that one time when she'd accidentally locked herself inside and he had to break her out. Pacifica was shrieking now, begging someone to stop, but the shouting just grew louder. Dipper jiggled the handle, furiously tying to find the catch that would open the door. Back and forth, back and forth. Screaming. Clanging. Backandforthbackandforth. Sobbing. Scuffling. _Backandforthbackandforth_ — _click!_

The sound of something heavy connecting with something hard sounded through the door, followed by the sluggish sound of someone sliding to the floor. A scream pierced the air. Dipper froze. The arguing had stopped. Everything stood in dead silence.

Very slowly, his heart racing in his throat, Dipper creaked the door open. It swung wide on squeaky hinges, and Dipper could see everything.

There were three people in the prop room: Bill Cipher, Pacifica Northwest, and Tad Strange. Bill and Pacifica were standing, each on either side of the room and starring wide-eyed at the open door. Pacifica had tears streaming down her face, her eyes red and puffy. Bill stood, back slightly hunched and breathing heavily, like he'd just run a marathon, the blood sprinkled on his face looking like freckles in the overhead light. Laying between them, on the floor, unmoving, his neck twisted around in a way that should be impossible, was Tad Strange, his wide, blank eyes staring directly at Dipper.

Dipper looked up at Pacifica, who turned away from him, refusing to look at him despite the fact that her boyfriend was laying dead in the middle of the school’s prop room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyyy, remember when I had like the first six chapters of this posted on here like six months ago? And then I decided I hated everything I'd ever written and took it down without any explanation whatsoever? Yeah...good times, good times. ANYWAYS, I've done some heavy editing since then and here we are! Updates to come <3


	2. Deal with the Devil

Realization of what he was seeing hit Dipper like a mallet to the chest.

"What the _fuck_?" he asked, falling backwards. Panic surged in Dipper's chest as he scrambled backwards trying to put as much distance between him and the rotting fucking corpse in the middle of the prop room. He struggled for air, gasping desperately. Though it was really hard to breath with Tad's dead, empty eyes starring right at him.

"Calm down, kid," Bill said, kneeling down in front of Dipper. "Just a dead body, it's not gonna kill you."

"Are you serious right now, Bill?" Pacifica hissed, still standing across the room. "He's obviously flipping shit. He's seen us. It's over."

"You know what," Bill spat at her over his shoulder. " _You_ freaking out right now, Princess, isn't exactly helping right now, either."

"Dipper?"

Dipper spun around at the sound of a familiar voice, only to find Mabel leaning out of the light booth across the auditorium. He watched as her gaze drifted to the prop room and the scene inside. He could see the gears clicking together and her eyes growing wide.

The sight of his sister broke whatever paralysis had consumed Dipper. He scrambled to his feet, screaming.

"Mabel, _run!_ "

She vanished in the next second, disappearing into the dark shadows of the light booth. Dipper was half-way to the stage steps when a pair of incredibly strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him off his feet. He reared, sending too much momentum backwards and sent the both of them tumbling backwards in a heap on the hardwood stage.

"Pine Tree!" Bill yelled, his voice muffled against Dipper's back and his arms still wrapped tight around Dipper's waist.

"Let me go!" Dipper yelled. He felt as his elbow connected with something solid. There came a yelp of pain and Bill's arms around him suddenly loosened.

Dipper scrambled, sneakers and hands scrapping along the stage floor, eyes focused desperately on the steps. He could see Mabel again, coming out of the light booth and flying down one of the aisles of seats. A hand seized his ankle and hauled him back. Dipper kicked out with his other leg, but hit nothing, trying to twist around to at least see his attacker. He continued to be pulled across the slick, polished stage floor, kicking and yelling the entire time, his ankle twisting in Bill's crushing grip. Another hand grasped at the back of his hoodie and hauled him into the prop room. He caught a glance at Mabel, face horror-stricken, her phone in her hand as she stumbled up the stage steps, before the door slammed shut with a deadly _click!_

Mabel slammed into the door, pounding on it, screaming, "Dipper! Dipper! I swear to God you let my brother out, _right now_ , Bill Cipher. If anything happens to him—!"

"Oh great," Pacifica muttered. "The other Pines freak." She was huddled against the opposite wall, her bare shoulders shaking, her face still stained with tears.

Bill grabbed a prop chair right next to the door before jamming the back of it underneath the door's handle, ensuring Mabel wouldn't be able to lock-pick her way in here. Dipper scrambled onto his back and sat up kicking to get as far away from Bill and Pacifica and Tad and the puddle of blood currently painting the prop room floor. He pressed himself into a corner, along the same wall as the door, Pacifica across the room and Bill standing significantly closer.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God," he keened, fisting his fingers in his hair. At some point during his fight with Bill, his hat had fallen off. He stared at Tad, only just now able to see his head had been bashed in, blood spilling from the open wound in a tidal wave. If he squinted his eyes, he could just see the cracked skull opening up to reveal—Dipper gagged, his stomach rolling.

"Oh my God," he muttered. "Oh my God, please please please don't kill me."

"We're not going to kill ya, kid," Bill snapped. "Too much hassle to deal with two dead bodies. So calm the fuck down."

Dipper looked at Bill wide-eyed. Blood was smeared across his face, his nose spewing red down his face from where Dipper had hit him. On closer inspection, the freckles Dipper had seen from before turned out to be flecks of blood, dried now, splattered across his nose and cheeks—Tad's blood. Dipper's stomach rolled again and he was sure he was going to vomit.

Meanwhile, Mabel had stopped screaming and pounding on the door outside. Her voice was shaking as she clearly spoke into her phone.

"Hey, Star? Yeah, it's Mabel. I need your mom here, or the police, or I-I don't know. C-Can you just get someone to the auditorium, like, _now_?"

"Oh, well this is just perfect," Pacifica said, throwing her hands up. Long blonde clumps of hair stuck to her sweat and tear soaked face."Now we have two Pines freaks having a melt down. I knew we shouldn't have come here, this is all your fault!"

"My fault?" Bill asked, head snapping to face her. "I'm not the one that wanted to kill my boyfriend!"

"I didn't tell you to kill him, did I?" she hissed. "That was all your idea!"

"Does anyone want to explain why there's a dead body the school's freaking prop room!" Dipper yelled, catching their attention.

They both turned to look at him, slightly surprised. Dipper was still gasping for fast, panicked breaths, but he could at least focus now, which was more than could be said for Mabel. Mabel was wheezing outside the door, panicked sounds escaping her as she continued to bang on the door. They could all hear her sobbing now.

Pacifica and Bill glanced at each other.

"That's not really what's important right now, kid," Bill said. "What is is that we need to get rid of it—all of us need to, that is."

Dipper stared at Bill like he was out of his fucking mind, which, he probably was.

"You can't be serious," he said. "Fuck no, hell no. Jesus fucking Christ, _no_. No fucking way am I going to—"

"You seem to have forgotten, Pine Tree," Bill snapped, his teeth clenched. "But we had a deal, one where I could call in a favor anytime I wanted, and right now seems like a pretty good time to call in that favor."

"Yeah, but I didn't think it'd involve hiding a dead freaking body!" Dipper said.

"Oh, so I guess you want to break our deal then?" Bill asked. He looked livid. He leaned in close to Dipper, his teeth bared. "Then I just guess I'll go to the principal tomorrow and tell her just _how_ all that Adderall got around the school last year. And I'm sure she'd be more than happy to report it to the police, and then who would be in jail then? Hm?"

Dipper glanced at the door, Mabel still freaking out on the other side. She was screaming and banging on the door, rattling the chair pushed under the handle. He looked back and glared at Bill. "Fuck you. I'm not doing it."

"Argh!" Bill groaned, straightening up and throwing his head back in frustration. He ran his hand through his hair. "We had a _deal_ , Pine Tree!"

"I don't care! I'm not going to help you bury our freaking classmate God fuck knows where!"

"We wouldn't just bury him," Bill snapped. "We'd probably chop him up or burn him first."

"Oh, great," Dipper retorted. "Just that then! But why is he dead in the first place! Please tell me whatever happened was an accident. That you didn't—" he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "That you didn't mean to kill him."

"We don't have time for this," Bill muttered before reaching down and seizing Dipper's wrist.

"Hey!" Dipper tried to yank it back, but Bill forced his hand open.

Before Dipper could do anything else, there was a flash of silver and Bill was pressing the tip of his pocket knife into Dipper's palm. A hiss escaped his lips as a stinging pain shot through his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Dipper asked, trying to wrench his arm away. Blood was already spilling across his palm and down his wrist.

Bill flipped his knife closed and shoved it in his pocket before grabbing a spare bit of fabric from a nearby worktable, He wiped up most of the blood from Dipper's still bleeding palm before letting go and stalking back over to Tad's body. Dipper cradled his injured hand as he watched Bill bend down, bloodied handkerchief in hand.

"Hey, wait. What're you—"

Bill pressed the handkerchief into Tad's face, smearing Dipper's blood everywhere, painting his hair red and his face with tribal war paint. Bill stood up and shoved his handkerchief back into his pocket.

"See?" he said, clapping his hands together. "Now your DNA's all over your dead classmate's body. So, unless you help us get rid of said body, then the police are going to find it, along with _your_ blood, and then it's only a matter of time before they find you."

Dipper stared up at Bill in disbelief. Blood dripped from his hand onto the concrete floor. Mabel was still screaming outside. Dipper's heart was racing in his chest, his wide eyes falling to Tad, his face now caked in blood. _His_ blood.

"Oh and I should mention," Bill said, breaking Dipper's race of panicked thoughts. "I've seen both of your nurse's forms," Bill said gesturing between the door with Mabel outside and Dipper, "and you two aren't fraternal. You're semi-identical." He walked back towards Dipper, stepping over Tad. "Which means," he said, squatting down right in front of Dipper and putting both of them on eye-level, "if they find that body with your blood on it, they aren't going to be able to tell the difference between your's and your sister's DNA, and then she'll become a suspect as well."

Dipper stared at Bill. He could still hear Mabel outside, banging against the door, trying to jiggle it open but the chair held fast. She screamed his name, tears choking her voice. He looked to Pacifica, who's face was still red and who looked like she was going to bolt at any second. Then his eyes fell to Tad, laying dead, his face covered in Dipper's blood. Dipper clenched his hand, a dull pain throbbing in his palm as his own blood ran over his fingers. He looked back to Bill, only to find a set of burning gold eyes focused on him, waiting for an answer.

 

* * *

"Dipper, you can't be serious!" Mabel hissed.

"Oh, sorry, Mabel, is a _dead body_ not serious enough for you?"

"Oh no, you do not get to be mad at me for this! This is not my fault!"

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He sighed, "I know, I know, I know."

There were in the pit, the hallowed out section of the floor in front of the stage where the orchestra played during musicals, the two of them crouched in a corner and talking in low voices.

"Look, Mabel, it's complicated alright?" Dipper explained. "There's this deal we have, and Bill got my blood on the body, and if anyone finds Tad, since we're twins, you might become a suspect, too. My most logical course of action is to—" Dipper took a steadying breath, unable to believe he was about to say this "—is to help them hide the body."

Mabel narrowed her eyes at him. It reminded him of that one time in sixth grade when she went around staring at people, convinced she could read minds. She looked like she was trying to read his mind now, like she could crack open his head with just her eyes and be able to read his lies like a book.

"Must be a pretty big deal you guys have for you to bury a body for it," she said finally.

Dipper looked away, swallowing, nervous eyes darting everywhere. "Yeah, kind of is," he muttered.

Mabel let out a sigh and Dipper looked over to see her running her fingers through her hair. Her make-up had run again and she looked tired as the dead.

"Fine," she said. "Then I guess I'm coming, too."

Dipper's stomach dropped out from under him. "Mabel, you are _not_ coming."

"Like hell I'm not," Mabel said, throwing her hands in the air. "You think I'm just going to let you, let you burry a dead body on your own? No way!"

"I won't be alone," Dipper said, sounding very tired. "Bill and Pacifica are going to be there."

"Oh, so what?" she all but shrieked. "So you want me to let my only brother go into the woods alone with the school psycho and a murderer? Yeah, that's real smart, bro-bro, but I don't think so. They've _killed_ someone Dipper!"

"I know!" he shouted. "And I don't want you getting caught up in that. I've gotten you in trouble enough times before."

"I can get myself into trouble on my own just fine, thank you."

"Mabel, please, you just need to stay here and keep out of this—"

She punched him.

Dipper staggered backwards, nearly toppling over on the pit floor, a dull pain in his shoulder from where Mabel had hit him. What was with everyone trying to hurt him today? He grabbed at his aching shoulder, sure he'd have a bruise by morning. Geez, he'd forgotten how strong she could be.

He didn't have much time to cradle his bruise shoulder—or bruised ego for that matter—when Mabel's hand shot out to grab him by the collar of his hoodie, hauling him closer by force.

"Hey, I am not letting you do this alone, okay?" she said, starring Dipper down with a fire he knew from experience not to mess with. "I know you want to protect me, but trust me when I say I've got this. I'm a big girl now, I don't need my little brother to look after me. And like Bill said, that blood could be either of ours. Which means we're in this together. Got it?" she asked, shaking him for emphasis.

He starred at her, dumbstruck and at a loss for words. His shoulder still hurt and his shirt was bloody from where he'd fisted his hem in his sliced open palm. Without an answer, she gave a nod of approval and let go of his hoodie. She stood up abruptly and dusted invisible debri from her pants. She looked down at Dipper and held out her hand to help him up. He stared at it.

"Come on, bro-bro. Don't worry, we got this. Everything's going to be alright, remember?"

Dipper glanced up at his sister, smiling down at him through her ruined make-up and tangled hair. Dipper couldn't help the small smile that flitted to his face then and reached forward to take his sister's hand. She hauled him up and the two of them climbed out of the pit and onto the ledge of the stage. They'd just managed to stand up, when they heard someone call for them.

"Hey!" the sound of Pacifica's voice reached them, carrying over the acoustically built stage. "Pines freak number two! You call off your girlfriend yet? The last thing we need the principal's daughter snooping around here."

"Oh no, Star," Mabel hissed, pulling out her phone. "I completely forgot." She tapped out a quick text message. Dipper managed to glimpse a horde of colorful emoji on her screen, quite a few of them involving hearts and kissy faces before she sent the message.

"So," he said, his eyes flying to the ceiling as she stuffed her phone back in her pocket. "Star Butterfly, huh? I thought you guys broke up."

Mabel shot him a glare, before letting her eyes fall back to the ground. "We did."

"For good reasons?"

"Very good reasons."

Dipper coughed. "Well then, that's gonna make rehearsals awkward."

Mabel shoved him off the stage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, there! So, just an fyi, constructive criticism is MORE THAN WELCOME. I'm a very novice writer, so I'll take any advice I can. For instance, I wasn't sure how to start this chapter in a way that made sure the reader was caught up to the opening of the first chapter, so what I essentially did was condense and summarize the opening of the previous chapter and started Chapter Two out that way. I'm not entirely sure if that worked effectively or not, so if anyone has any opinions on or suggestions for (suggestions are especially welcome ^.^) the start of this chapter, please let me know!


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